


those willing hands

by depugnare



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Hand Jobs, M/M, Voyeurism, because it's really just Jon being Head Archivist of Talking Dirty, i don't know what else to tag this is it's jon talking dirty like that's it. don't look at me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:07:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22581496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/depugnare/pseuds/depugnare
Summary: “You’re going to read to me,” Jon says, taking a seat on Elias’ desk, “Until I say you can stop.”
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 18
Kudos: 271





	those willing hands

Jon is the biggest mistake Elias has ever made.

Too beautiful, too smart, too  _ human _ , and Elias has invited him into his home. Let him nest among all the other beautiful things Elias has surrounded himself with.

This morning Jon has learned something new. A realization that finally has him able to to set his teeth in Elias’ throat.

He has learned that Jon could ask anything of him and Elias would give it. That Jon could take and take and take until Elias was nothing and he would not stop him.

“You’re going to read to me,” Jon says, taking a seat on Elias’ desk, “Until I say you can stop.” 

Elias watches him from his chair, eyes narrowed as he considers what Jon has said. There’s no compulsion in his voice, but Jon is looking at him like he wouldn’t be afraid to add any. 

“Is there a problem?” 

“No,” Elias says, taking the papers with a sharp smile. If Jon wants to be monstrous, he’ll let him. “I just don’t understand why you need me to read these.”

“Because I want you to,” Jon says, spreading his thighs as he leans back on his hands. Elias watches like Jon is performing a miracle in front of him.

“Fair enough,” he says, clearing his throat. “Statement of Judith Davis, March the Sixteenth, Two Thousand Eighteen regarding a strange cat living beneath her porch.” 

Elias reads and Jon listens, eyes glowing an inhuman green. He reads until he feels Jon rest his foot on the arm of his chair, pressing his leg against Elias’ arm. He looks up, startled, and sees Jon watching as though he’s done nothing.

“Is there a problem?” Jon asks, tilting his head, and Elias suddenly understands that he’s the prey here.

“No.”

“Good. Keep reading.”

It feels like an act of worship, reading to Jon like this, and Elias finds the words are sweet on his tongue as he reads. Can see that while it’s not the same as taking a statement himself, Jon is getting something out of this other than bossing Elias around. 

When Elias finishes the statement, he sets it aside and looks up at Jon. 

“Is that enough?” he asks, pointedly not looking at how Jon’s legs now bracket him in his chair, no escape provided.

“Another one,” Jon says, voice low and smooth like when he’s taking a statement himself. 

Elias picks up another statement, looking up to meet Jon’s eyes as he starts reading.

“Statement of Melodie Young regarding a noise from within her walls,” he says, and Jon shuts his eyes as the words bloom through the air.

Elias moves closer as he reads until he’s on the edge of his seat as though Jon himself is pulling the statement from his throat, and he sees a halo of eyes start to form around Jon’s head. He’s beautiful in an utterly monstrous way. He makes Elias’ breath catch.

“Good,” Jon breathes when Elias finishes. “Now, listen to me.” 

Elias leans forward, entranced and Jon sits up with a proud tilt to his chin.

“Take your belt off.”

“Oh, if that’s what you wanted, you could have just asked,” Elias says, doing as he’s told and standing to unbutton his slacks.

“I didn’t say to get undressed.”

Elias stops, looking up at him. Jon smirks.

“Sit down.”

Elias sits.

“Lean back so I can see you,” Jon says, fixing his glowing green eyes on Elias.

Elias settles back into the chair, so that his torso is bared to Jon, tender and soft. Exposed. 

Jon eyes the flushed skin of his chest peeking through where Elias’ shirt collar is open with appreciation before he tilts his jaw up. 

“Spread your legs,” Jon says and Elias’ legs part, thighs straining against the seam of his suit pants. Jon trails one scarred hand up the inside of his thigh, stopping just before he reaches the v of his legs.

Elias arches up, chasing his touch and Jon pulls away.

“Now you can show me,” Jon says, amused.

Elias slowly pulls his zipper down, never taking his eyes away from Jon’s as he slips his hand inside and pulls his cock out. It’s already flushed at the tip, half hard in Elias’ hand. Jon makes a musical noise as he gets to his feet, circling around until he’s standing behind Elias.

“Well?” he says, leaning down until Elias can feel the heat of him. “Isn’t this what you wanted? Why have you stopped?”

“I want you to watch,” Elias says.

“I can _ see _ perfectly well from here,” Jon murmurs. “Go on.”

So Elias strokes himself, slick and hot. His skin flushes pink as he arches up in his chair towards Jon, seeking him out. Jon watches with sharp eyes, critical of every move Elias’ hand makes. He walks around until he’s in front of Elias again, tilting his head to study him.

“Is that all? You beg inside my head for hours and you won’t even give me a good show?”

He leans forward, resting his hands on the back of the chair to bring himself just close enough for Elias’ world to narrow down to the sight of Jon’s throat above him. He can see the beat of his pulse beneath the soft skin there, warm and vulnerable.

“Touch me,” Elias demands.

“No.”

Elias goes to sit up, chasing after Jon’s throat with his teeth.

“I said  _ no _ ,” Jon snarls and Elias finds that he can’t move. 

He gasps, skin too hot and tight. His cock is painfully sensitive where it rubs against the cloth of his shirt and he squirms, trying to resist Jon’s power. A hand trails up his thigh but stops just before where he wants it.

“Did you want me in your lap?” Jon asks, voice dangerously soft and sweet. “Bent over your desk? Is this not enough?”

Elias feels his cock twitch against his belly, and his voice catches in his throat. It’s unholy, the amount of power that Jon’s voice holds over him. 

“You can come just like this can’t you?” Jon asks. “Without me touching you? You’re already close. Undone just by my words.”

Elias’ shirt grows damp just below his navel, cock leaking at the malice in his voice. He finds that he can move his hand and he wraps it around himself again, stroking himself while Jon watches. He spreads his legs until they’re bracketed by Jon’s again and he’s truly pinned down by him, completely on display.

“Faster,” Jon demands.

Elias complies, mouth dropping open in a silent gasp as he strokes himself faster, and Jon sways forward, lips brushing against his. Elias doesn’t know whether he should turn his head and kiss him or if that will make Jon pull away. The heat of him is too good, the low murmur of his voice in Elias’ too divine to interrupt.

“That’s it,” Jon croons. “Come for me.” 

Elias arches up with cry, fixated on the inhuman green of Jon’s eyes. He hardly registers the feel of come covering his hand, his shirt, too focused on the way Jon’s mouth curls into a viciously pleased smile. He’s monstrous.

He’s  _ divine _ .

Elias collapses against his chair, gasping at the release from his want and Jon’s power, going limp as Jon steps away from him to lean against his desk.

“Look at you,” Jon tsks. “You’ve made a mess. Suppose it’s good we’re not at the Institute, can’t have you walking around like this.”

He surveys Elias, eyes dragging down his body to rest on his spent cock, flushed and slick against the impeccable white of his shirt. Back up to his face, cheeks pink and eyes dazed as he looks up at Jon in wonder. He looks utterly ruined, completely undone by Jon.

Jon eventually takes pity on him and steps closer to push his hair out of his face, letting Elias rest his cheek against his hip.

“Who knew you were so easy?” Jon teases, running his fingers through his hair. “I thought you were supposed to be stronger than that.”

“You’re stronger than me now,” Elias murmurs, looking up at him with his own inhumanly bright eyes. “Doesn’t it feel good Jon?”

The hand that fists the hair at the back of his skull is answer enough.

**Author's Note:**

> this is a work of bad influence and that's all I have to say.


End file.
